Eighteen Weeks
by suspensegirl
Summary: “Five times, Chuck,” she sang, studying her freshly manicured and painted red nails. “It wasn’t my fault, Blair.” Maybe, Chuck couldn't control if her lingerie was 'loaned out'... CB ONESHOT. FLUFF!


A/N: Okay, a few more oneshot ideas I had and then I'll get back to QBR, I swear. ;p This fic is just playing off of Blair's threat to dress in flannel if Chuck kept loaning out her lingerie. So…what if he did? ;)

* * *

"_Oh, and if you ever loan out my lingerie again?" she prepared her threat, appearing to soften as she kissed her boyfriend tenderly on his full lips. "Well…" A pause. "I just hope you like me in flannel," she beamed. Then, with a gentle smack to his face and a pull away from his strong arm around her waist, she made her way across the dance floor._

_ Chuck Bass stared on after his girlfriend, having been awed and outwitted once again by none other than Blair Waldorf. He smiled._

* * *

Chuck Bass was not smiling anymore.

There she sat, on the edge of the bed, with giant flannel pajama pants and a matching oversized plaid shirt. He remembered the threat, sure, but he didn't think he'd actually have to be subject to the consequences she dared to throw at him. Especially when it wasn't his fault to begin with.

"Five times, Chuck," she sang, studying her freshly manicured and painted red nails—she had been doing this for the last ten minutes.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "It wasn't my fault, _Blair_."

She hummed a cheery chuckle though, and he knew she wasn't buying it. "I wonder if I should change the color of my nails," she pondered. Her eyes traveled towards Chuck as she held her hand out to him. "What do you think? Do you like red?"

He looked at her in a daze of disbelief. She was torturing him, and by the look on her face, enjoying it. Her lips were parted and she was fighting that hint of a smile quirking at the corner of her lips. He shook his head slowly, but she pretended to take it as an answer to her question.

"You're right. Perhaps I should consider purple. It is such a lovely color too," she held the edges of her giant shirt before her eyes to examine how the color would match, and for a quarter of second Chuck spotted her narrow waist hidden beneath the large flannel shirt.

His mouth watered, and then it was gone. She had laid the shirt back down to its previous position and he leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes closing in agony.

"Five times, Chuck," she repeated, rising from the bed to find her purple nail polish and nail polish remover across the room. He pursed his lips together, clenching his teeth, but said nothing. He could not state enough how every single one of those times had not been his fault.

_Time 1:_

_ "Dude, I have a girl coming over."_

_ Chuck smirked at his announcement. "As proud as I am of this new accomplishment, I have to wonder what benefits there are in you telling me. Were you looking for my approving smirk?" he smirked cheekily, more expressive than he had before._

_ Nate shook his head laughing. "No, though that is appreciated. But…I was hoping you could do me a favor."_

_ "Name it," he said, daring him._

_ "She…" his expression morphed into an unusually unsure stance and Chuck fought hard to decipher it._

_ "Just say it, man."_

_ "She wanted to make things a little more…creative."_

_ Chuck smiled wide, and proud. "Are you willing to tell me details?" he gazed smarmily at the goodness he was about to hear about._

_ Nate coughed, laughing again. "Well…she doesn't have any…lingerie, and she want to make things interesting, so I kind of said—"_

_ "No," Chuck said, immediately cutting him off. The situation may have intrigued him before, but he hadn't forgotten Blair's words and he certainly reveled in how outrageously hot and sexy she looked in the apparel. "I only have Blair's and she specifically threatened me about this."_

_ Nate's eyebrows rose to the top of her forehead. "She threatened you?" he asked amusedly._

_ "Hey," Chuck snapped, rising to his feet and crossing the room to grab his Scotch. "It's not something to laugh about. My privileges in viewing her in her lingerie would be taken away," he said quite seriously._

_ The blonde rolled his eyes. "Come on! It's Blair! She can't withhold it from you forever," he scoffed. Chuck shook his head, mumbling about the boy's stupidity. _

_ "She can't withhold sex from me forever, yes, but lingerie? Oh…you don't even know," his face sunk into an almost depression. Nate shook his head, laughing._

_ "Alright. Fine, fine. I'll investigate elsewhere."_

_ Chuck's eyebrows rose, no matter how grateful he may have been. "Thanks."_

That was time one.

As clear as Chuck had been on the matter to his best friend, the boy had apparently panicked and forgotten the demand at the last minute, so just snuck through Blair's things and offered a pretty piece up to the one-night stand he had brought home with him. He had been very apologetic afterwards, but as had happened the first time, Blair walked in moments after Nate's guest had climbed out of bed, somehow still in the lingerie—or redressed in it, whichever it was had not really mattered. Chuck had been punished. No sex for the next three days. Though to his relief, her bra and panties had only been plaid instead of a loosely adorned three times her size flannel as she had threatened him with. She did not believe the words coming out of his mouth on how Nate had stolen the outfit for the sake of what she would call the _trashy_ girl.

He had sighed, determining to not argue with the girl that had just had sex with him. If he wanted sex again before the week was out, it was better to let the issue go. He was bitter to Nate for awhile, but even that wore out.

Until two weeks later, when it happened again.

_Time 2:_

_ Chuck stumbled back into his suite after a late night rendezvous at Blair's place the night before. He was a tad tipsy with a huge grin on his face until he focused gaze on the images set before him. This time there were two girls hanging off of him, both in Blair's lingerie._

_ It just had to be his lucky day that Blair stumbled in after him and spotted the two. She glared and stomped out of the place on instant. _

He didn't talk to Nate for a week and a half, after which he only offered up a glare at the fact that Blair had refused him sex during that entire time, only relenting the night before, and this time wore a baggy floor-length shirt as her pre-sex get-up.

Nate apologized profusely, but none of it hit home with his best friend. He was even forced to go back to his college dorm or even some other hotel for at least a month. The blonde found the punishment too intense for the situation, but Chuck was pissed and after half a minute of arguing, he accepted the consequences that had been handed over to him.

The third time had been by far the most irritating, and Chuck had been fighting hard ever since then to erase the memory from his system. Even after seeing Blair's shocked and angry reaction to the sight, he wondered if he himself was not more pissed off than she was.

Somewhere in between Nate being temporarily kicked out and Chuck's fury cooling off, Nate had informed Dan Humphrey that since _he_ was not going to be using the extra room, he was welcome to it. He just told him to only take advantage of the opportunity when he was pretty sure Chuck wouldn't be there. ( In other words, while Chuck was working or at Blair's.) Nate insisted that the boy had been against it from the start and had even concluded that Nate was joking.

Somehow Chuck didn't believe him. Neither did a glaring Blair.

Not when they walked in on a shirtless Dan Humphrey climbing out of Nate's bed with a lingerie-clad Vanessa Abrams following behind him.

Apparently the two best friends had decided they were _more_ than friends, and during a drunken night had after all decided on Chuck Bass's hotel penthouse for their final destination. It was only through almost indecipherable slurs that Chuck discovered who had presented this location as a possibility to the pathetic Brooklynites. Blair had been mortified, even screaming for an instant before a severely angry Chuck turned to her, quite obviously as pissed off as she was. She didn't waste time though, and stomped out of the penthouse.

_ Again._

Chuck called Security immediately, and demanded they never let the two dark-haired individuals enter the premises again—not even the hotel itself, not even for special events.

_ Thank God, Dorkus wasn't dating that celebrity anymore._

She might have found a way to release him from the punishment.

Blair was most scarred by that third one, even after the other two occurred. She had seen Vanessa in her own lingerie. It had brought back memories to the moment she had found out via _Gossip Girl _that Chuck had slept with the troll. And for a few nights Blair even had nightmares over what it must have been for _them_, how Chuck had felt during the process. Even his insistence that the experience had meant nothing to him and Blair looked hotter than Vanessa ever could in the sexy lingerie did not keep the spiteful fiery brunette from avoiding him. For two weeks.

He only had sex once during that time period, and that was only because she had somehow found herself in his suite after a night of wallowing with her drunken self in the bar on the lobby level. When he woke up the next morning, she was gone.

She recovered though, thankfully, and her only demand had been that he burn the lingerie Vanessa had worn—even if it _was_ her favorite.

The fourth and fifth times were hardly worth mentioning. Luckily Chuck had forgotten nearly everything that involved them. All he knew was Nate had been the culprit and Blair had found extra large, thick flannel pajamas with humungous, difficult to open buttons and zippers placed on them. She never aided in undoing them, and certainly didn't assist him in going about releasing his own clothing. She pretty much also just laid there when they had sex. He wasn't even sure if she was having orgasms anymore. The only reason he took place in the act itself during this time was simply for the fact that he didn't want to live off masturbation.

Now, all of Blair's lingerie had been burned…by Blair herself. She made a bonfire in Central Park and somehow got away with it. It almost scared Chuck the way her eyes glistened at how the fabric crackled and diminished into dust and ashes.

He pulled her away from the scene as quickly as humanly possible.

After that, he bought her new lingerie. Every night he would find the new piece disregarded and sent off to the hopeless homeless tramps on the street who surely would never purchase such expensive lingerie in their entire lives. He kept buying lingerie though, and eventually she retreated to burning it.

He gave up.

There was nothing he could do it seemed. He had of course sent Nate away from the penthouse indefinitely, and changed the locks. Only he and Blair had the effective keys. No one else could even reach the penthouse floor through the elevator except for the two of them. And the maid service through the service elevator.

He was beyond frustrated when she placed a long body pillow between them when she slept over. _Now they couldn't even cuddle?! What the hell?! _

When co-ed showers were banned, he nearly lost his mind.

And yet, here he still sat, watching her in agony as she changed her nail color from red to purple. There was no purple whatsoever on her plaid pajama top and bottom, so he decided it was just to torture him. Which it probably was.

"Blair…" he sighed, bringing a hand up to the bridge of his nose and trying to decrease the pain. He had had an erection for her for days it seemed. Even with all those extra layers or just plain billowy flannel he couldn't be turned away. He just missed the bonus hotness of his favorite parts of her body encased in lace and silk.

"Hmm?" she asked, looking fondly at the new glossy color on her nails. She had been sitting back on the bed for at least the last ten minutes, and he found it sad and pathetic that he had to imagine her in the lingerie he had not seen on her in what seemed like forever.

"Eighteen weeks," he spat out.

"That's…" she looked upwards into some blank space in what appeared to be away of calculating the exact amount, "about four and a half months," she assured him, smiling lovingly in his direction.

He twitched.

"Blair," he growled, his voice low. He was sick of this, and had tried to fix it any possible way. What else could he do?

Her eyes twinkled at him. "What is it, Bass? You sound overwhelmingly irritated," she said innocently, playing with a few long strands of her hair.

"Get over here," he demanded, his voice low.

"What?" she asked, as if confused.

"Blair," his teeth ground together. She rolled her eyes.

"Fine. God Chuck, you can be such a—" he pulled her towards him once she was within reach and kissed her hard on the mouth. She pushed away after a moment though, almost spitting up the taste of his mouth on the floor. She feigned a cough. "Now is not the ti—"

"_Please_," he pulled her closer to him again, and her lips curved into a smile at how desperate he was for her. If she was not mistaken, it almost appeared as though his eyes were watering. She reached behind her and felt for something along the back of her flannel. Much to his surprise, the clothing slipped off within seconds and suddenly he knew she had been aware of how easy it could come off along. But what was even more surprising to him, and actually an intense joy-filled relief, was the fact of his favorite lingerie snugly fit against her body beneath the flannel now pooled on the floor.

His lips parted in awe. "I like purple," he nodded numbly, unable to tear his eyes from her face as she slowly tortured him with the undoing of his belt buckle, pants and shirt. He sighed in pleasure as her lips soaked up his skin in a way he was starting to think he had imagined.

"I knew you would," she murmured against him.

Flesh met flesh. She finally discarded her mask and restraint. And then there was relief.

"God, you're beautiful," his sultry voice repeated to her over and over again while they were in the midst of it. She smiled in the midst of her near hyperventilating breaths.

"Flattery never hurts," she breathed, pulling him closer and arching up into his sweaty, pounding form.

_Perhaps, he had learned his lesson._

* * *

A/N: Ooo, that was fun! Lol. Review!


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